


a half eaten moon as my only company

by thisisthenoid



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Lazy story, Loneliness, To An Extent, old fic, ooc probably, re-done fic, vent too i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisthenoid/pseuds/thisisthenoid
Summary: funny how a once social species can grow into an extreme preference of solitude.





	a half eaten moon as my only company

**Author's Note:**

> original: 19/12/2017  
> playing the gorge event on my own reminded me i wrote this out also looking at the date i probably did this around the forge event too so uh fucking mood???  
> thats everything cleared from my drafts see yall in another 3 or so months thank

he liked it on his own. in fact, he preferred the solitude much more than being with a group of people. it was peaceful, quiet, without the stress of prying eyes and judgemental sneers and the pressure to always create something immaculate. there wasn't a webber constantly demanding he play instead of work, there wasn't a wendy who downed his spirits with harsh truths, there wasn't a wickerbottom looking down her nose on everything he did, there wasn't a wigfrid patronising him about his strength and his choice of food, there wasn't a maxwell with his snide, unnecessary comments, and there wasn't a wes acting shitty and smug.

 

nope. it was just him, by the fire, on his own. just the way he liked it. just like it had been for years before he'd made the florid postern, before he'd made maxwell's door,  before he'd even arrived on the constant. he'd found that having people around only distracted him from experiments, and he enjoyed the old comforts of science far more than the added space of other humans. he could actually hear himself thinking clearly, which wasn't a common occurrence when there was a crowd arguing about food rations and item consumption. he could focus on more important things rather than petty problems, like who'd stolen what and who'd killed who. he could go at his own pace and rhythm without feeling the need to rush, could test out new things without eyes over his shoulder (well, physically anyway), could actually _do_ things without being ridiculed by his so called "friends".

 

he fuddled about with a piece of rope, making a few extra pieces of wooden armour and spears, and realised he wouldn't have to share his things with anyone else anymore either. nothing he collected would go missing, or be "borrowed". he could have 46 logs kept in a chest by the end of the day, and still have the same amount by the next morning. such a small thing rejuvenated his mood; he had been sick to the back teeth of people stealing his things and never putting in the work to replace them.

 

it wasn't long before the familiar bounds of loneliness coiled around his heart, the heaviness a mix of comfort and a deep rooted bitterness. his claws coiled into fists, and he leered into the fire. he'd gone years on his own to a group of people suddenly thrown to his side in what he'd been promised would be "help" and "support". all of them had, at some point, questioned his abilities and his usefulness, which he had brushed off with jokes and puns and laughter. every time, their comments had made him feel awful, made even worse by their destructful actions towards his creations. his already distrustful nature had been pushed to the limits when they had arrived, their words a constant test of his paper-thin patience.

 

he mulled it over with a grimace, and realised how miserable he had been around the others. he cast the gate a vexing stare, wondering why he'd allowed maxwell to persuade him to create the sickening thing in the first place. the first time he'd listened to that crook, it had all gone south. why did he think that the promise of acquaintances would go any differently?

 

nah, he'd decided he liked it by his own shadow. the monsters were no problem to deal with by his lone spear, and he didn't have to worry about mystery fires, or "strange hammers being picked up by magic and _magically_ destroying the things he _himself_ had made because his machines were seen as useless in the eyes of the sentient tool". just him, his experiments, and the wonderful subject of science, out alone in the monster ridden world like he'd always been.

 

and there wasn't any problem in that.


End file.
